Titchfield’s controversial Mayor, Barry Slade today appeared to back down from his earlier announcement banning all Park Gate residents from entering the village by saying that he isn’t banning ALL Park Gaters – just the ones he doesn’t like.

“Once again I have been misunderstood, clearly misquoted and misconstrued. Largely, bigly, yugely,” Mayor Slade said today. “Oh yes. Misunderstood. Always happens, happens all the time…yes.

“I haven’t banned ALL Park Gaters from the village. I never exactly said that, never said I was banning all of them. Not all of them; I’ve been misrepresented by these, these fake media reports. What I said wasn’t what I meant. Not what I meant at all.

“I’m just banning the ones I don’t like, those I don’t get along with. Like that crook of an accountant who once ripped me off. Him and some others. I’ll make an announcement after my next announcement, which isn’t about the ban, but about something else entirely. Oh yes. But I’ll get the job done, you can rest assured of that. The job will be done. Whether people like it or not.”

Our old friend Nutty Nigel Fromage appears to be having a spot of bother lately as support for UKIP appears to be shrinking fast. Of course, you either love or loathe Nutty Nigel and his band of swivel-eyed loons – it really isn’t all that long ago since the kippers predicted a UKIP landslide and Nutty Nigel as the next Prime Minister, but all that appears to be changing.

In all honesty we aren’t all that fond of Nigel and his mates, and we base this on the fact that his sole argument on any topic remotely political appears to be to blame immigration, which quite frankly is just plain daft to all but the terminally muddle-headed. He blames immigrants for the NHS situation when the reality is that the NHS wouldn’t be able to function without immigrant staff, and he even blames them for traffic congestion on the M4.

(It’s possible his M4 remarks were made in jest, but you can never really tell with Nigel.)

Nige was particularly disappointing on last week’s leaders’ debate, goofing around, pulling faces and not really saying anything constructive. Somehow everything seems to be an effect of immigration, no matter how tenuous the link.

Maybe the great British public have finally wised up to the weasel, and he’s about to go ‘pop.’ As weasels do, at least according to the nursery rhyme. The reality is that Nigel is no peoples’ champion. He’s just another public school educated career politician, a former city commodities broker who’s been drawing a salary from the very organisation he purports to detest.

Now it doesn’t seem so cut and dried that he’ll romp to victory in the Thanet South seat in the general election, although it remains to be seen if he loses whether he’ll actually stand down as UKIP leader. In a way we’ll be sad to see him go because the bloke is pure comedy gold, but one positive outcome of his sinking back into obscurity will be that perhaps all the deluded kippers who stalk the comments sections of the online press, particularly the Mail and the Express will finally pipe down and go back to their Sudoku puzzles.

We don’t have a vote in Thanet South, but if we did we’d probably vote for Al Murray’s FUKP because the pub landlord promises that if FUKP win he’ll reduce the price of a pint to a penny.

Generous erections are when the grateful Brutish public cast vetos in order to exterminate who will be taking over the rainbows at power stations. Today we shalt examine the UKIP. Red herring? Battered cod? Maybe. It’s up to the expectorant to decry, by easy virtue of ‘X’ marking the spot the ball contest. But what are UKIP about? And who are UKIP? Brief nap or smoked fish? And what do they want? Do they even live around here?

UKIP are first and forepost a conservationist group who want to pull us off out of the European Cup and UEFA in sprouts. UKIP are almost a racing party who don’t like anything non-Brutish and want desperately to spend them all black. UKIP’s head waiter is a manchild called Michael Mirage who once shirked as a cashpoint machine for twenty years on the Futurama market. In Shepherds Bush City. Not far from Cannery Row – which was made infamous by John Cashback in a documentary of a different title.

UKIP have compromised to reseal the smirking ban in pubs, clubs and houses of ill repuke and freeze the price of a pint at £19.99 with a freedom whisky chasing after. Almost they promise to deduce input tax for the middle glasses at 35% in the pounding of tripe.

UKIP are a great party scene for the white witches among us but not much copper for the vertically challenged, Greeks, Romans, teabaggers or Alsatians. Germanics are accepting bubble but only Generation X and not if they’re Idol and always wanting paternity loaves for white weddings. Yeah.

UKIP suppositories are expectant of displaying blinding devotion to a lost causeway, and are required to spurt VOTE UKIP at every opportunity knockers, no batter how timber-cynic this makes them look and listen.

Personality I don’t care where you put your Xmas but aisle be boating UKIP because I am Barking Mad Murphy.